


half doomed (semi sweet)

by growlery writes (growlery)



Series: boycott love; detox just to retox [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Everyone is Queer, F/M, Sharing a Bed, extremely mild sexual content, fraught millenial romance, set in london for reasons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 06:05:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16080014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery/pseuds/growlery%20writes
Summary: Raven’s got all her worldly possessions on the pavement, packed up and ready to go, when Miller's friend Bellamy pulls up. His car hasdefinitelyseen better days, but it's still miles better than carting everything she owns across the city on the tube.That doesn't stop her from saying, “Really? You made it all the way here in that rustbucket?”





	half doomed (semi sweet)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [semele](https://archiveofourown.org/users/semele/gifts).



> this is, technically, a gift for semele, but really it is a gift for me because of how self-indulgent this is. it could have been a million words. i am definitely at least writing the porny sequel where they (somewhat) get their shit together.

Harper McIntyre changed “the famous five” to “BIG QUEER FLAT 👨❤️👨👩❤️👩👧” 

**Harper McIntyre**  
MOVE IN DAY!!!

charming 

Monty Miller changed “BIG QUEER FLAT 👨❤️👨👩❤️👩👧” to “BIG QUEER FLAT 👨❤️👨👩❤️👩💃”

much better

*

Raven’s got all her worldly possessions on the pavement, packed up and ready to go, when Miller's friend Bellamy pulls up. His car has _definitely_ seen better days, but it's still miles better than carting everything she owns across the city on the tube. 

That doesn't stop her from saying, “Really? You made it all the way here in that rustbucket?”

“Hello to you too, Raven,” Bellamy grumps, ducking out of the car to grab an armful of her stuff, and Raven snickers. 

Between the two of them, they get everything in the car in a few minutes. Bellamy’s phone is connected via aux cord, and Raven raises her eyebrows at it. 

“The rustbucket’s moving up in the world,” she says, and Bellamy, without looking away from the road, says, “It's not too late to dump all your stuff back out, you know.”

Raven holds her hands up, smiling. She's thinking about trying to sneakily switch the cord to her own phone when the song changes to something bouncier that makes her legs twitch. (God, she's not been out dancing in _forever_. Money, is the thing, and shifts at work that don’t leave her too exhausted to do anything but crawl into bed at the end of the day.)

Raven wonders if she should make small talk. She doesn't really know Bellamy that well. Bellamy and Miller went out together in their first year of uni, Bellamy’s second, but Raven wasn't that close to Miller then; she only really became friends with him when he started going out with Monty, since it's generally good form to be on good terms with your best friends’ boyfriends. 

She knows Bellamy in the way you know a lot of people at uni: you go to the same parties and have shouty drunken conversations, best friends until the night is over; you see them in the library right before essay deadlines and during exam season, sharing a kinship that can only be formed in the battle that is getting through it all with your mental health somewhat intact. 

They're friendly acquaintances, is what she's trying to say, and friendly acquaintances make small talk. It doesn't feel like Bellamy’s expecting her to, though, and the music fills the spaces between them easily. She doesn't, and neither does he. 

**BIG QUEER FLAT 👨❤️👨👩❤️👩💃**

anyone home rn  
we're around the corner 

**Zoe Monroe**  
I got called into work 😞

**Harper**  
💔

**Nathan Miller**  
we went on a food run  
back in like 30min

“You all right to help me carry this stuff up?” Raven asks Bellamy once they've found a parking space. It's on the other side of the road about a mile down, but it'll have to do. “I have been abandoned by literally all my flatmates.”

Bellamy flicks her an amused look. “Sure.”

The flat is on the third floor, and Raven's knee starts twinging at the start of the second staircase. She grits her teeth and doesn't stop moving. 

“Where do you want stuff left?” Bellamy asks as he follows her in. Raven nudges open the nearest door and puts the bags she was holding down on the ground, breathing a bit too hard. 

“Anywhere,” she says, waving an expansive hand at the room. Bellamy raises his eyebrows at her. “The couples got the bedrooms. The single person got the living room.”

Raven rolls her eyes, like she minds, but she's slept on worse things than a sofa bed and this way her share of the rent is somewhere approaching manageable, which is all she can ask for. She wanted to ask for a lift in the building, but they couldn't afford that, which is- it's fine. Raven just needs to sit down for a few minutes.

Bellamy doesn't say anything when she sits heavily down on the sofa, just leans in the doorframe and looks out of the long windows that are gonna make the place a bitch to heat in the winter. It's summer now and he's just wearing a t-shirt, stretching slightly over his abs and biceps, neatly defined under the fabric. 

Raven gets up, and Raven thinks about walking down those stairs only to walk back up them three or four more times, and Raven sort of wants to cry. She screws her fingers into her palms, squeezing. 

“I,” she says, and can't say anything else. Fuck. She hates this. She _hates_ this. “My leg’s not doing great, and I-” 

Bellamy looks at her, but he doesn't say anything. He seems to be waiting her out, and she doesn’t know if she appreciates it or wishes he’d put her out of her misery. 

“Could you bring up the rest of my stuff,” she lets out in one breath.

“Sure,” he says. “Is it cool if I take your keys?”

She nods, carefully unclenches her fists. Her therapist’s gonna be so proud of her when she tells her about this, Raven thinks, and tries not to grimace. 

**BIG QUEER FLAT 👨❤️👨👩❤️👩💃**

get me that rum I like 

**Monty Green**  
we are 

get me **more**

She starts unpacking; it's either she does it today or she lives out of boxes for months, and she’s making the decision not to live that life while she can. She starts a playlist on her phone, feels herself relax incrementally as it plays. 

Bellamy comes back as she's loading the IKEA bookshelf in the corner. He looks over with this unreadable expression on his face and she stiffens, ready to snap the difference between moving around a room and going up and down stairs, but what he says is, “I can't believe you gave me shit about my car when you still have physical CDs.”

“Physical CDs that are in _perfect condition_ , which cannot be said about that heap of scrap,” she retorts, and he laughs, shakes his head at her. 

“I've got to move the car,” Bellamy says, when he’s got all her stuff inside. “Do you want a hand when I get back?”

Raven frowns, instinctively distrustful. “Not got anything better to do?”

Bellamy shrugs. “Have to stick around for the housewarming party,” he says. “No point me driving all the way home just to come back again.”

The distrust doesn’t shift. “Right, yeah.”

“I get twitchy if I have to sit still for too long,” he says, and that she definitely understands. 

She shrugs. “Sure.”

Raven’s mostly done by the time Bellamy gets back, anyway, just tacking up pictures and art and miscellaneous records of her life on the walls. There's a few boxes all labelled RANDOM STUFF which, honestly, could contain anything from her first year lab exercises to her welding tools, and he starts opening them as she finishes up decorating. 

“Uh,” Bellamy says suddenly, and something in his voice makes her whirl around. 

“What- _oh my god,_ ” Raven says, bursting into helpless laughter. It's half Bellamy’s beetroot face and half the open box in front of him, which is filled with sex toys. Her harness is _right there_ , oh hell. “I'm so sorry, I didn't realise that was- holy shit. I really didn’t mean to traumatise you.”

Bellamy glares at her, but he's still flushed, so it doesn't really have the effect he's going for. “I'm not,” he says shortly. “Where do you want this stuff?”

Raven bites her lip, tries to hold in her giggles. “Here,” she says, holding her arms out for the box. It's a good question, actually; there's not a lot of discreet places in a room her flatmates are also going to have access to. For now, she puts it on the floor between her clothing rack and the arm of the sofa farthest from the door, mostly hidden. 

The other boxes’ contents aren’t nearly as interesting, so the rest of the unpacking passes in a companionable kind of silence. That’s how Harper, Monty and Miller find them when they come through the door with a loaded Lidl bag on each arm. 

“Don’t rush to help or anything, we’re fine here,” Harper says loudly, sticking her head in on their way to the kitchen, and Raven just smirks back at her. “Hey, Bellamy.”

He’s already moving, reaching for one of the bags she’s carrying which she hands over gratefully. 

Raven can’t help herself. “Definitely the safer choice,” she says, and she sees the back of Bellamy’s neck go red, but he doesn’t say anything, and she laughs to herself as she returns to unpacking. 

*

Over the course of the evening, a bunch of their friends steadily fill up Raven’s room, squeeze into every available corner, booze on the table and board games on the floor. 

Raven gets pleasantly tipsy from a drinking game that Harper, hyper-competitive brat that she is, got way too into; she’s lying in one corner of the room, head in Monroe’s lap, knees curled in. There’s a game of Risk that Raven’s pretty sure Monty is cheating at, and equally sure that no one else has noticed. 

There’s music playing, something upbeat and bouncy, and Raven thinks about dancing, but she’s pretty comfortable where she is, on one of the sofas that doesn’t double as her bed. Bellamy’s thigh is pressed against hers, and she finds herself thinking about sneaking into his lap, turning round to kiss him and, oh. _Oh._

Of course she's into Bellamy. He's a complete dork, and kind of a grumpy bastard, but he's hot, and he's been great company; that's an Olympic medal high jump over the people Raven's been with before. Raven doesn’t know if he's into her but, well, she's awesome, and their banter earlier could totally have been flirting. It's gotta be worth a try, right? 

One hour and several unsuccessful attempts at flirting later, Raven’s wrapped around Gina’s back in the kitchen, mumbling about Olympic medals while Gina carefully moves her around so she can mix their drinks. 

“Here,” she says, turning in Raven’s grip and handing her the glass. It’s gratifyingly blue. Raven moves one arm to take it, keeping the other around Gina’s waist. “What about Bellamy getting the gold?”

“For being hot as shit,” Raven tells her, throwing back about half the drink at once. Yep, it basically tastes blue. She adds, despairingly, “And for not being into me, like, _at all_.”

Gina leans incrementally forward to kiss her forehead. “And for having shitty taste,” she says firmly, and Raven wishes, not for the first, or fifth, or fiftieth time, that Gina wasn’t so painfully straight. She expresses this sentiment, and Gina laughs easily and tugs her back to the living room to dance. 

Things start to wind down not long after that, people steadily draining out of the flat until it’s just Bellamy and Miller sprawled on the sofa, Monty on the floor between Miller’s legs, Raven in the armchair. Monroe put Harper to bed a while ago, and she passes farewell greetings around the room before going to join her. 

“I should get home,” Bellamy says, and to his credit, he’s only slurring a little. Raven’s seen him drink kind of a lot tonight. She might have been watching, a little, his hands wrapped around bottles, his fingers stroking the glass. “Work tomorrow. Fuck.”

Monty shakes his head. “How do you plan on getting home?”

“There’ll be buses,” Bellamy says vaguely, getting to his feet. “It’ll be two buses.”

“Where does Bellamy live?” Raven demands, and when Miller tells her, checks the route herself. “Four buses, and a thirty minute walk, Jesus.” She balks at the predicted cost of an Uber, then makes a decision. “Just crash here.”

“I’ll be fine,” Bellamy insists, not very convincingly, since he’s kind of swaying on his feet and leaning into Miller’s side. 

“Yeah, no,” Miller says. “You can’t actually believe I’m gonna let you out of my flat in this state.” Bellamy’s eyes close; Raven thinks he looks relieved, maybe. “Monroe should have a sleeping bag, and we’ve got tons of blankets.”

Raven coughs. “Or,” she says. “The sofa bed’s pretty big.”

“You sure?” Miller says, and Raven shrugs. She’s crashed with people she knows less well than Bellamy, and even with blankets, sleeping on the floor would suck. She’s not gonna do that to him after he helped out so much. 

Miller lends Bellamy an old shirt and shorts that Raven absolutely does not notice are too small for him when he comes back to the living room, sits on the very opposite edge of the bed to her. Raven wants to lick his collarbone, bite at the muscles visibly stretching Miller’s shorts. 

This might not have been the best idea. 

“Thanks,” Bellamy says quietly, and flashes a brief, tired smile at her. She smiles back, fervently squashing down the part of her that still wants to jump his bones. Not fucking appropriate, Raven. “Good night.”

“’Night,” she says. 

*

Raven wakes up wrapped around Bellamy, legs tangled together, her head pillowed on his chest. One of her hands has found its way to Bellamy's stomach, splayed over the warm, hard muscle. She turned determinedly away from Bellamy before she fell asleep last night; this is a betrayal from her body, constantly seeking physical intimacy even where it isn’t wanted. 

The only saving grace is that Bellamy isn’t awake to realise what a creep she is. Holding in a groan, Raven starts to move away, hoping that Bellamy doesn't stir. 

No such luck. 

“Fuck,” Bellamy says, sleep hoarse. He jumps away from her, eyes widening. “ _Fuck_ , Raven, I'm so sorry.”

Raven can't stop herself groaning. “Hey, no,” she assures him, “this is definitely my fault, _I'm_ sorry.” 

Bellamy seems unconvinced. He still looks so guilty, and his hair is rumpled and his face is still soft from sleep and he’s so fucking pretty. Raven still wants to lick his collarbones. She’s the _worst_. 

“Seriously,” she says, “I can’t believe you don’t think _I’m_ the creep here when I tried so hard to pull you last night.”

Bellamy goes very still. “What,” he says, and Raven gapes at him. 

“Did you somehow miss me constantly complimenting you? I told you you had beautiful eyes!”

He’s starting to flush. “I thought you were just being friendly.”

“I pulled you up to dance with me and then I put your hands on my ass,” Raven says flatly. 

“Very friendly,” Bellamy says, and he’s definitely red now. “Did you- really?”

“Really,” she says, and she feels tired, suddenly, exhaustion hitting her all in a rush. “I didn’t mean to, the-” She can’t say cuddling. She _cannot_. “I’m not that much of an asshole.”

“You’re- Raven,” Bellamy says, and he’s suddenly very close, his knees an inch from touching hers. Raven’s breath catches. “You’re not any amount of an asshole. I-” He licks his lips, and Raven’s eyes dart down to follow his tongue. “I’m gonna kiss you now, if that’s okay.”

Raven beats him to it, just on principle, delight soaring through her. His lips are so soft, and he makes a noise when she bites them, wrapping strong arms around her to pull her in close. She’s burning up everywhere they’re touching, and it’s good, _so_ good, but she wants more. God, but she always wants more. 

Raven tips forward, pushing him back down. He grinds his hips up and she gasps; he feels so good against her that she doesn’t resist when he rolls them over, leaning up slightly so he’s not holding her down. Raven kinda wants him to hold her down, feel his obvious strength against her. She doesn’t get a chance to ask. 

The living room door starts to open, and Harper yelps, “ _Shit_ ,” and Bellamy leaps away, face flaming. 

“Harper,” Raven says, with feeling, “what the _fuck_.”

“I didn't know you had company,” Harper grumps, dramatically holding a hand up to shield her eyes. “It’s a shared space! I need to get my phone.”

“It’s also my goddamn bedroom,” Raven snaps, and the fight goes out of Harper in a long breath. 

“I know, I know,” she says. “I’m sorry. It’s early, I didn’t think.” She waves her free hand at them. “You guys get back to... whatever you were doing.”

Raven grimaces. “Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.”

“Sorry,” Harper says again, genuinely contrite, and Raven couldn’t stay mad at her if she wanted to. “I'll make breakfast?”

Raven glances at Bellamy, finds him already looking at her, his face seeming to be back under control. 

“I need to get to work,” he says, and Raven droops until he licks his lips and adds, “You’ve got my number, right?”

She shakes her head; their fingers brush when she hands over her phone, and she curls her hands inwards so she won’t keep touching him. When she gets her phone back, she’s sent some messages. 

**Bellamy Blake**

If you’re free after six you should come over. I have a door that locks.  
;)

Raven snorts, endeared despite herself. When she looks back at Bellamy, he’s smiling, a little bashful, and she holds a sceptical look on her face for three seconds before she nods. 

Raven tells Harper she’s forgiven, she doesn’t need to buy Raven’s loyalty back with food, but Harper insists, and Raven’s not gonna turn her down twice; Harper’s pancakes are _amazing_. They’re eating them together in the kitchen, Raven’s stack considerably higher than Harper’s when Miller stumbles in. 

“Morning,” he says, and they return the greeting. He makes to grab a pancake off Raven’s plate and Harper slaps his hand away. 

“Hey,” she says sternly, “those are Raven’s apology pancakes.”

“Apology pancakes?” Miller repeats, suddenly wide awake. He looks between them with something akin to glee, and Raven glares at Harper, who doesn’t look apologetic at _all_. 

“For a most grievous sin,” Harper says gravely. Raven puts her head in her hands. “Coitus interruptus.”

“It was _not_ coitus,” Raven says hotly, but both of them have burst into helpless laughter and are clearly not listening to her. “These are shitty apology pancakes. I hate you both.”

“Lie and lie,” Harper says, pulling Raven into a sideways hug. Raven groans loudly and settles into it, nestling her head into Harper’s neck. 

**BIG QUEER FLAT 👨❤️👨👩❤️👩💃**

if anyone comes into my room today they are getting murdered.  
that is all.

Back in her room, she leaves the bed as it is and gets comfortable, picking up her phone to flick through. She’s got a few notifications, but one in particular catches her eye: Bellamy’s followed her on Instagram and liked her most recent post, a shot of Monty and Miller from the last time the three of them got lunch together that she’d captioned _third wheeling my second favourite couple_. Raven grins down at her phone, helpless. 

She goes to return the favour and the grin dries up. Bellamy’s photo is of him hugging a pretty, dark-haired white girl, smiling into her hair. Raven’s heart clenches, then just as quickly unclenches. 

_Blakes do it better_ , it says, and the first three comments are some variation on _wow, you look nothing like your sister_. 

“Stupid,” Raven mutters, curling into the blankets she didn’t put away. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

*

**Bellamy Blake**

hey, not going to make it. got that bug that’s going around. 

Sorry to hear. :/ Hope you feel better soon. 

👍


End file.
